


"Man Flu"

by pyropinkfish



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, alex takes care of him, in which a closed city like vega suffers the flu, its disgustingly fluffy, michael gets sick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-17
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-13 13:07:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2151837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pyropinkfish/pseuds/pyropinkfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angels have human bodies, angels can bleed, angels need to eat, angels need to sleep, therefore you can tell me angels are immune to the flu, but I don't really care. So Michael gets sick, and Alex takes care of him. </p><p>--</p><p>"You know I came here to escape this plague." He eventually spoke up, smiling when he got a moan of displeasure in reply. </p><p>"Your life is imperviously complicated." His sass would have had bite if he wasn't such a lispy, cough ridden mess. Alex pointed that out, rubbing his shoulders as Michael wrapped his leg around his own, pulling himself as close as possible. After all, Alex was like an icepack that made being smothered under the blanket refreshing. </p><p>"And you're acting like a big baby."</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Man Flu"

**Author's Note:**

> Boys really do act like its the end of the world and that you have to cut a limb off when they get even the sniffles, imagine how bad stubborn angel boys are.

It was a funny, unexpected sight Alex walked into; somehow he always placed Michael above trivial things like the common cold. Regardless of what he thought, he stepped in as he always does and leaned against the door. 

Really, Alex didn't even know angels _could_ get sick. In fact, when he came up to the Stratosphere, in hopes of escaping the clutches of germs plaguing the close soldier barracks, he figured Michael's home would be a safe haven free of coughing. Instead he found a pathetic looking angel curled up in the fetal position on his bed, a box of tissues next to him and the blanket brought up to his shoulders.

"You look terrible. Feeling okay?" The blond chided, watching with an entertained grin as the ball on the bed groaned and tried to sit up against his better judgment. Michael grabbed his head, and man, he really looked terrible; puffy, blood-shot eyes and a red nose that had dry snot crusting his upper lip on one side but dripping on the other in an awful way that trailed down his chin. On top of that, his skin was pale yellow, far from normal, making his eyes look sunken. Alex felt bad for him, but he wasn't the only one sick— Noma and Ethan, and about seventy percent of his core had this shitty flu. 

"I'm _fine_." The reply didn't sound fine. Actually it sounded like he said "find." Not only that, but he spoke with a cough and had him turning away to hide his face, making everything that was said even more muffled and hard to understand. Alex had to shuffle closer, straining to pick up anything he grumbled.

"How the hell did you get sick anyway?" 

"I'm... Not." He denied, bitterly grabbing a tissue to wipe his hand and face with. The blond couldn't help but find it cute in a sappy way. Michael didn't want his charge to see him in a weakened state and Alex could blatantly see that. 

"Right. Well, you should stay hydrated. I'll get you water." He decided to write it off as he came up to the bed, looking to see if the angel already had a glass or if he would have to go down to his kitchen a floor below. However when he actually got close enough, Michael's hand out reached and tugged him under the covers with him.

Startled, Alex did the natural thing by trying to move away, but the sickly angel wrapped his arms around him, pressing his burning hot skin against the nape of his neck. Proven fact, boys are absolute babies when they get sick. But boy angels? Clearly ten times bigger babies. 

"You're burning up." Alex complained, already feeling his skin crawl at how overheated Michael's body was, and on top of it he wanted to tuck that heavy comforter over them? Alex was going to be boiled alive. 

"No, it's cold." Was that a lisp? Oh god, that was adorable. Too bad the cute moment was ruined with the ugly coughing that followed. At least he had the decency to turn just slightly so he wouldn't be contaminating the healthy boy on purpose. 

"If you get me sick with your angel germs—" Alex remarked anyway, keeping his tone fairly playful. 

"Your 'human germs' got me sick first." He whined in reply, hiding his face once again as Alex gave up and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, feeling the way his body shook. Poor thing, with his skin so warm, everything must feel like it was in the negatives. However Alex was going to overheat if he didn't get some fresh air. 

"Let me up, I'll get you some water and open the window." Michael refused, holding on him tighter like his life depended on it. So he pried him off. The angel let out a grouse, but complied and chose to take refuge under the covers while Alex stood to pull his jacket off. If he had to cuddle someone over 104 degrees, he wasn't going to wear an unnecessary coat. 

He left it on the floor as he walked to the window, shocked that it wasn't already open. Normally Michael kept it as such, but him being cold and the city noises probably didn't seem appealing. However having the fresh and crisp air would help him not to roast under that blanket. Once he got the large glass opened, he turned back to look for a cup. 

Finally he spotted one and hurried to snatch it off the floor by the head of the bed before Michael could grab him. One trip later from the bathroom and it was filled with cold tap water. Water which Alex carried back and handed towards the angel. He didn't take it, actually refused it, so the human put it on the floor and crawled back into the nest with him before the brunet could protest him still standing. 

Clearly appreciative, and oddly cuddly in his dazed, fever ridden state, Michael rubbed his nose against the sleeve of his shirt, the soft, over washed and worn cotton felt better than anything else on his sensitive skin. It was all so pitiful that the blond didn't mind, just let him burrow into his side while he stared up at the painted ceiling. 

"You know I came here to escape this plague." He eventually spoke up, smiling when he got a moan of displeasure in reply. 

"Your life is imperviously complicated." His sass would have had bite if he wasn't such a lispy, cough ridden mess. Alex pointed that out, rubbing his shoulders as Michael wrapped his leg around his own, pulling himself as close as possible. After all, Alex was like an icepack that made being smothered under the blanket refreshing. 

"And you're acting like a big baby." 

"I am not." Michael huffed, but the sound was wheezy, coming from his nose. He sounded so miserable. Alex kneaded his shoulder-blade, using his other hand to pet his hair back absent-minded (it was sweaty and clumped together in the heat).

"I know plenty of people who handle a little cough much better than the big bad angel." Alex continued to tease, mostly because he enjoyed the way Michael's breathing picked up each time he shifted against his side. 

"And how many ill angels have you been near?" He snapped, gasping for air when his throat seized from the drainage of his sinuses. 

"Noma— and she handles it like a man." This time he forced Michael to sit up with him while he coughed into a tissue, clearing his throat of the flem that clung to his esophagus. Once his coughing fit was over, the brunet could properly glare at him. How dare he insinuate he wasn't as strong as an underling? 

"And do _you_ believe you are more 'manly' when ill?" He was sure to snide at him as he laid his forehead against his shoulder, pressing his nose and eye into the skin to ease the pressure in his sinuses. Alex could feel the mucus dripping on his shirt. Gingerly, he nudged him up so he could look at his face again (and save his shirt). It wouldn't be hard to get ahold of cold pills for the angel. He wasn't like some V4 or lower, and looking at the poor, sweaty thing, he looked like he could use some relief. 

"Go take a cool bath, it'll help clear your head up. I'll go get you soup and ask around for some pills that'll help yo—"

"No, don't bother yourself, I'm not sick... A bath does sound good." Michael didn't want to take any supplies that he wasn't in absolute need of. However he would take the warm water and some crackers. That’s to say if he could keep it down. Vomiting more times than he could count when he woke up made eating something— anything sound terrible. 

Alex shrugged his denial off and pulled the blanket away from them. He dropped his legs to the floor and stood, holding his hand out to help steady the angel who blinked away his headache and crawled to stand. Where he leaned on his charge for support as the room spun around him. The human would have carried him, knowing it would be faster, if he physically could. The other had four inches on him and at least a hundred and seventy-five pounds of dead weight. 

It was easier to shuffle him in the direction of the bathroom with small baby steps that he struggled to keep up with. Michael continued to reject help, trying to step ahead and away from him. Each time was met with the same failure. He was so determined to be independent and prove himself that he would move too fast and make himself dizzy. At first Alex let him, amused by the defiance, but when it got to the point Michael was stumbling around like a startled baby deer, he grabbed his arm again. 

"Alright, big shot, you're the picture perfect imagine of great health. Stop trying to walk so fast— if you puke, I'm leaving." After plenty of arguing, Michael submitted, stepping in pace as he was instructed to breath through his mouth. His chest was so congested that his breathing was labored. 

By the time Alex got him in the bathroom and propped him against the tub so he could work on filling it, Michael was sweatier than before. Soon enough he had the water at a nice lukewarm temperature. Of course he didn't add any of the special scents or bubbles the angel had for his nighttime harem of friends, but with the persistence and whininess from him, he chose a vanilla bubble syrup. The serum bubbled up and smelt warm, like cookies when you walk past a bakery. 

Michael peered in, sticking his hand to test the water. He recoiled like a cat, and if it wasn't for the fact Alex knew that his nose was stuffed and whistled when he inhaled, he would have thought he hissed. Regardless, Alex stood and tugged Michael up by his arm, pulling his shirt off for him before it even registered to the angel to undo his trousers. 

Alex politely turned his head away, branching his arms out as a security while the brunet stepped out of his clothes and used his arm as a handle when he stepped into the water. It sloshed, signaling that it was okay for the human to look back. Michael shivered at first, not enjoying that the water was (to him) cold, but the bubbles did make him smile. Even if for a faint second. 

The water came up to where his rib cage would end. Alex didn't have the patience to wait for a tub as designed to fit multiple people to fill properly. Besides, he wouldn't have to worry about him falling asleep and drowning this way. At least he hoped so. 

"I'm going to make you dinner, don't make the water any more hot, it'll only make your temperature higher." 

"I am not a child." Michael complained, sinking as far under the water as he could get. Alex's eyes lingered on the fevered skin, hard muscle shiny from sweat and the way Michael was splashing to get his body warmer. He tried to keep his eyes from wondering further down along his stomach, failed, but then retreated, thankful that the thick bubbles covered any immodesty. 

Once he was sure the dark-haired man would be fine alone for at least ten minutes to soak in the bubbly water, he fled down the elevator to heat up whatever he could find in soup formation. Which really wasn't much. Alex was no master chef and chose to making broth with a pot of water, some chicken flavor seasoning, other herbs, and cut up baby carrots. 

Michael didn't keep a well stocked pantry. 

But it was better than nothing, and when the herbs melted into the water, Alex poured the mixture into a dark blue coffee mug. It burnt his hand as he carried up with a spoon to Michael’s bedroom. The mug and spoon combo was then placed down on the small table pushed against a wall. It was discarded there momentarily while the human ventured back to his angel. 

He wasn't sure if he expected Michael to have stayed in the water or not, considering how aggressively stubborn he had been, but he was pleased to find that the angel did in fact stay put. Even more so looked like he actually attempted to wash himself. Although he was completely tuckered out, head lolled and his swollen eyelids closed and mouth hanging open to breath. If only Alex had a camera. 

"Michael?" As precious as seeing a sleepy angel making a whistling noise each time he inhaled, Alex knew he couldn't stay in the water. So he called to him, walking over as he snatched a towel from the rack. Michael stirred briefly, letting out a pained groan as he tried to turn into a more comfortable position. His shifting only caused his body to spasm in more coughing— successfully waking him. 

Alex wasn't ready for when he leaned over and dry heaved. Since he refused water, he had nothing to vomit but the mucus and stomach acid clinging to his insides. Even the blond had to flinch at the sight and how utterly pained the grimace that appeared on Michael's face. 

"I would like that water now." His throat was hoarse as Alex handed over the towel and backtracked to get the water from the bedside. 

Meanwhile Michael undid the plug to his tub and dried his face with the fluffy towel. He made no move to stand or dry anything else, feeling better with the cool water on his skin. But with the water from his bath gone, he was completely exposed to Alex returning. 

The shame of being so vulnerable crept up on him, having to be pushed aside as he mouthed a thank you and drank the water down so fast that he accidentally spit it all out in yet another coughing fit. This flu would be the end of him. History would go down with the Archangel Michael having died from Influenza B. 

"Careful, drink too fast and you'll get sick again." Alex chuckled at him, taking his glass back so he could refill it from the sink. The brunet growled about him telling him that _after_? 

"Also I made soup— sorta." 

"It's not from a can is it?" What a picky bastard. Michael questioned him as he used his towel to pat dry his arms and chest. When it came to standing, he wrapped the cloth around his waist while the blond stayed turned around, and used the tub as support while stepping out. It was a miracle he didn't trip, but he took it as being healthier now. 

Alex arched an eyebrow at him when he turned back around, watching as the proud peacock stumbled into his bedroom with no help. He could hear the bed make a squeak with his added weight, and as he followed him out, he wasn't surprised that he laid on his front over the sheets. 

Michael started to fumble to kick the blankets over his legs and turn to his side. He pulled out a couple of tissues and held them to his nose while he watched doubles of Alex getting the mug off his side table and bringing it along with his water, back to the bed. His charge sat down, one leg tucked under him and the other on the floor. He did his best to pile the copious amounts of pillows he had to prop Michael up easier with one hand. A task well worth a gold medal. 

"I'm not hungry." None the less, his efforts were wasted on the ungrateful child— archangel.

"Shut up and eat before I force you." Michael quirked an eyebrow, as if denying the possibility that _Alex_ — the one he easily overpowered on even a “bad” day could make him do anything. But yet, Alex reached out and pressed his cheeks together, causing his mouth to part just long enough that the hot spoon of a soft carrot and chicken flavored broth could slip inside his very dry throat. God, the taste was _heavenly_ compared to the previous aftertaste of stomach acid. Even if the soup had too much garlic and not enough parsley. 

Michael didn't protest any further as he swallowed the poor excuse for soup. In fact the next bite he leaned into it. Sure the spoon burnt his tongue, just like the ceramic cup burnt Alex's hand, along with the steam that didn't stop his nostrils from drooling snot down his lips. But the soup was the best thing for him and at least he could eat nearly ten spoonfuls and not feel like he would cough it back up though. That _had_ to count for something.

Alex stopped seemingly out of no where, tearing a tissue from the (almost empty, most of the discarded tissues laid amuck on his bed by his feet) box and tore it into two pieces. The brunet tilted his head, watching in fascination as he rolled the pieces into small balls. When he handed them over to him, Michael furrowed his eyebrows, not grasping what he was supposed to do with these pieces.

"Put them in your nose, it'll plug it up so you aren't making a mess. Unless you like the taste of snot." Hesitantly, Michael did as instructed, stuffing them so only a small part was visible. It was a grand sight, a confused and flustered Michael with tissue paper sticking out his button red nose. He even talked more funny now than he did before. 

"I feel ridiculous." The older declared, slowly sliding back down the pillows so that he laid at an obtuse angle, making disgruntled faces as the contents of his stomach sloshed. Alex tried to stand, but he reached for his human ice pack again, forcing his caretaker to join him under his sheets where he could happily press his damp forehead on his bicep. 

"You do look ridiculous— but you're sick." Alex wasn't very good at being emotionally comforting, nevertheless Michael had to admit he was doing a lot better with his service than he would have on his own. He still didn't reply, choosing instead to tuck them both under his blanket so he could shiver and cough into his chest, curled up in a ball, passing out instantly. Big bad scary angels needed their rest, and Alex was just a living body pillow.

…

When Michael woke up to find that his bedside partner was missing, he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, honestly trying to recall the details before he past out. Everything was just so fuzzy. All he knew was that the tissue plugs in his nose were soggy and he felt clammy. The angel used his thumb and the side of his index finger to pull out the makeshift plugs. He groaned at the gush of snot that rushed down his face as he blindly reached for another tissue. 

“Hey, you’re up— want some crackers?” A familiar voice called out, and it took some time for his eyes to focus on the blond. Alex sat a plate down on his lap anyway, and lifted his hand to his forehead. Automatically Michael leaned into the touch, closing his eyes. 

“Your fever broke, that’s good. You were practically unresponsive for days.” The angel tilted his head and tried to process these words carefully. Alex took care of him while he could barely move from being so ridden with the flu— for _days_? 

“Don’t eat too fast, you’ll get sick again.” He only muttered a thank you before lifting a salted cracker to his cracked lips, taking small bites while he thought of the little Hebrew boy that took care of him once before. How peculiar humanity was.

**Author's Note:**

> I worked so disgustingly hard on this just to prove a point to myself that I don't need approval from some asshole, and that I write for ME regardless if people don't like or do. 
> 
> I've proof read at least seven times and if there's still a mistake fucking shoot me, I don't care, I haven't even slept yet, its been two days writing this fic, I have shit I gotta do and its already 7 am. 
> 
> I hope you all flipping enjoy my efforts but if you don't, *I* like my efforts, and that's all that really matters. Although I aggressively appreciate commentary and kudos because I am an insecure, violent flower.


End file.
